#they both fancy a fine fabric

[ofmd-ann]

(S01E04 - Discomfort in a Married State)

I love this moment because right from the very start Ed feels safe enough to be himself around Stede, showing a vunerability that is beautiful. They instantly have a connection because of it.

Ed deserves to have soft and lovely things like nice fabrics, and Stede ❤️

[vinceaddams]

Any tips on learning to make buttonholes? I've been putting it off for.... *checks notes* like three years.... but better late than never and all that. I don't have any fancy machines so I gotta do it by hand but that seems right up your alley.

Thanks!

It IS up my alley, yes, I do most of my buttonholes by hand!

I'm actually part way through filming an 18th century buttonhole tutorial, but I expect it'll be a few more weeks before I finish that and put it on the youtubes, so in the meantime here's the very very short version. (The long version is looking like it'll probably be about 40 minutes maybe, judging by how much script I've written compared to my last video?)

Mark your line, a bit longer than your button is wide. I usually use a graphite mechanical pencil on light fabrics, and a light coloured pencil crayon on dark ones. (I have fabric pencils too, but they're much softer and leave a thicker line.) You may want to baste the layers together around all the marked buttonholes if you're working on something big and the layers are shifty and slippery. I'm not basting here because this is just a pants placket.

Do a little running stitch (or perhaps a running backstitch) in fine thread around the line at the width you want the finished buttonhole to be. This holds the layers of fabric together and acts as a nice little guide for when you do the buttonhole stitches.

Cut along the marked line using a buttonhole cutter, or a woodworking chisel. Glossy magazines are the best surface to put underneath your work as you push down, and you can give it a little tap with a rubber mallet if it's not going through all the way.

I'm aware that there are some people who cut their buttonholes open using seam rippers, and if any of them are reading this please know that that is abhorrent behaviour and I need you to stop it immediately. Stop it.

Go get a buttonhole cutter for 10 bucks and your life will be better for it. Or go to the nearest hardware store and get a little woodworking chisel. This includes machine buttonholes, use the buttonhole cutter on them too. If you continue to cut open buttonholes with a seam ripper after reading this you are personally responsible for at least 3 of the grey hairs on my head.

Do a whipstitch around the cut edges, to help prevent fraying while you work and to keep all those threads out of the way. (For my everyday shirts I usually do a machine buttonhole instead of this step, and then just hand stitch over it, because it's a bit faster and a lot sturdier on the thin fabrics.)

I like to mark out my button locations at this point, because I can mark them through the holes without the buttonhole stitches getting in the way.

For the actual buttonhole stitches it's really nice if you have silk buttonhole twist, but I usually use those little balls of DMC cotton pearl/perle because it's cheap and a good weight. NOT stranded embroidery floss, no separate strands! It's got to be one smooth twisted thing!

Here's a comparison pic between silk buttonhole twist (left) and cotton pearl (right). Both can make nice looking buttonholes, but the silk is a bit nicer to work with and the knots line up more smoothly.

I've actually only used the silk for one garment ever, but am going to try to do it more often on my nicer things. I find the cotton holds up well enough to daily wear though, despite being not ideal. The buttonholes are never the first part of my garments to wear out.

I cut a piece of about one arm's length more or less, depending on the size of buttonhole. For any hole longer than about 4cm I use 2 threads, one to do each side, because the end gets very frayed and scruffy by the time you've put it through the fabric that many times.

I wax about 2cm of the tip (Not the entire thread. I wax the outlining/overcasting thread but not the buttonhole thread itself.) to make it stick in the fabric better when I start off the thread. I don't tend to tie it, I just do a couple of stabstitches or backstitches and it holds well. (I'm generally very thorough with tying off my threads when it comes to hand sewing, but a buttonhole is basically a long row of knots, so it's pretty sturdy.)

Put the needle through underneath, with the tip coming up right along that little outline you sewed earlier. And I personally like to take the ends that are already in my hand and wrap them around the tip of the needle like so, but a lot of people loop the other end up around the other way, so here's a link to a buttonhole video with that method. Try both and see which one you prefer, the resulting knot is the same either way.

Sometimes I can pull the thread from the end near the needle and have the stitch look nice, but often I grab it closer to the base and give it a little wiggle to nestle it into place. This is more necessary with the cotton than it is with the silk.

The knot should be on top of the cut edge of the fabric, not in front of it.

You can put your stitches further apart than I do if you want, they'll still work if they've got little gaps in between them.

Keep going up that edge and when you get to the end you can either flip immediately to the other side and start back down again, or you can do a bar tack. (You can also fan out the stitches around the end if you want, but I don't like to anymore because I think the rectangular ends look nicer.)

Here's a bar tack vs. no bar tack sample. They just make it look more sharp, and they reinforce the ends.

For a bar tack do a few long stitches across the entire end.

And then do buttonhole stitches on top of those long stitches. I also like to snag a tiny bit of the fabric underneath.

Then stick the needle down into the fabric right where you ended that last stitch on the corner of the bar tack, so you don't pull that corner out of shape, and then just go back to making buttonhole stitches down the other side.

Then do the second bar tack once you get back to the end.

To finish off my thread I make it sticky with a bit more beeswax, waxing it as close to the fabric as I can get, and then bring it through to the back and pull it underneath the stitches down one side and trim it off.

In my experience it stays put perfectly well this way without tying it off.

Voila! An beautiful buttonholes!

If you want keyhole ones you can clip or punch a little rounded bit at one end of the cut and fan your stitches out around that and only do the bar tack at one end, like I did on my 1830's dressing gown.

(I won't do that style in my video though, because they're not 18th century.)

Do samples before doing them on a garment! Do as many practice ones as you need to, it takes a while for them to get good! Mine did not look this nice 10 years ago.

Your first one will probably look pretty bad, but your hundredth will be much better!

Edit: Video finished!

And here's the blog post, which is mostly a slightly longer version of this post.

[piratefishmama]

There was just something magical about a good Renaissance Faire. Something in the air that set Eddie’s little crow brain alight with excitement. Especially around December when Christmas loomed around the corner and snow dusted the ground.

Be it the shiny trinkets dangling from wooden hooks amidst the old wooden stalls, be it the haggling voices of stall vendors and customers, all dressed in garbs they’d likely sewn, dyed, modelled themselves, the smells of the food stalls, the glow of twinkling fairy lights reflecting on the snow, the music played on lutes and sang from haybales for gathering crowds, be it the energy of likeminded folks all there to be a little bit weird, joyously, freely, without shame or judgement.

He could be himself there.

Dressed to the nines in layered fabrics purposefully aged and torn to simulate era appropriate wear and tear. His hair held silver trinkets, tied up by lengths of dark fabric in a messy up-do that’d taken Wayne a good few hours to figure out, and would no doubt take them both a hell of a lot of huffing and puffing to remove without cutting it out later. He had a cloak made out of a thick set of curtains he’d thrifted, dyed, and repurposed.

He had his bag, something he’d sewn himself out of extra fabric from those curtains, made with plenty of little pockets and places to put his spoils, he’d saved up for months to get as much out of this faire as possible because things weren’t CHEAP there.

Most things were handmade, most things were lovingly crafted by gifted individuals. He didn’t even want to haggle, he had money specifically for the faire! He was going to spend money on the endlessly talented individuals at the faire!

He got himself a new journal, leather bound with thick blank pages for sketching in. it was embossed with intricate swirling patterns around a pentagram that he’d absolutely get shit for if he ever pulled it out in public but it was beautiful, and it had a cool swing lock clasp.

He got himself a pretty necklace, wire wrapped with a fancy gem that he’d keep safe to use as a prop at some point.

He found some beautiful homemade dice, made in such a way that it looked like liquid moved inside of the dice, little flecks of glitter sloshing around a cloudy liquid inside the green tinted gold leaf inlaid resin with every roll, beautiful, eye catching, immensely satisfying to his little crow brain. Surprisingly enough they were the most expensive purchase he’d made at the faire, tiny little dice, fifty whole dollars. Not the most expensive thing he’d seen there, but definitely the most expensive thing he now owned from the trip.

They came with an incredibly pretty velvet dice bag though, which he hadn’t expected to get as a little freebie but the girl at the stall winked at him when she handed it over and wasn’t that a trip. The fabric was dyed to look like some kind of galaxy, with little silver and gold stars embroidered into it.

It made those dice a steal and he would treasure it and them, always.

He perused the fabric stalls, getting himself a cool hand painted scarf, detailed with a beautiful dragon that he’d find a good frame for later to hang up because it would not be worn, no siree. He grabbed a cool hand carved wooden mug for Wayne that looked like something straight out of a Viking’s mead hall, he’d give it to him for Christmas.

He got himself some food. He watched a joust, got a photo with the riders and their horses, one of which tried nibbling his hair, tipped the riders, and very quickly found himself running low on cash.

All that scrimping, and saving, and dealing… worth it. So very worth it.

So sue him if he looped back around and walked through again, he couldn’t afford much of anything else, he’d spent his last ten spot on a fridge magnet, had five left for gas station snacks on the way home, but that was fine, he could take photos, he’d borrowed Gareth’s camera, Gareth would have come but his parents had one stipulation for him attending the faire, and that was taking his failing grade in biology, and upping it to something that at least predicted a pass before thanksgiving.

He’d failed, and no amount of grovelling could fix it. No Ren Faire for you good sir!

Jeff was out of town with his family on some ‘visit all the out of state family members before Christmas snowstorms lock everything down’ country wide tour. And Dougie couldn’t get the time off his part time job to go.

So Eddie had promised plenty of photos to show them what they missed out on.

It was the very last stall at the end of the strip that caught his attention. Maybe it was the way the dying sunlight hit it, or the way the wind caught the chimes dangling from its flimsy rafters, he felt… called to it. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame and who was he, but a lowly little moth, to ignore the call of the fire?

So he wandered over, let himself be drawn in, offered a friendly little finger wave to the greying woman sat behind a makeshift counter wrapped in shawls and decorated in silver jewellery that jingled as she worked a single crotchet hook into a slowly coming together wine red shawl. The woman offered him a simple bow of her head and a small smile in response but no sales pitch.

No conversation of any kind really, she simply sat there while he looked, crocheting away without a care in the world. He could appreciate that, not being bothered by pushy sales tactic, especially when he had so few funds left to play with, he always felt guilty when he couldn’t afford what they were selling.

Like why was he even there if he had no money to spend?

The old woman didn’t do that, allowing him to wander through her surprisingly large stall full of little trinkets and goodies uninterrupted, which was for the best because had she spoke, he might not have stayed long enough to spot it. Amidst the little boxes decorated with carved patterns and pretty gemstones, amidst the scarves, crocheted bags, amidst the leather work belts, and wallets sat a single, solitary little bottle.

Sealed with a cork coated in wax and pressed with a decorative seal in a shape too worn down to really make out but obvious that it’d at one point had a shape. The bottle was hand blown, not manufactured, lightly frosted a dark brown to a brilliant amber around its square base, the colour crept up the smooth sides towards its seal, like a diamond in shape.

The bottle wasn’t empty either.

Much like the dice that’d caught his crow brain hook line and sinker earlier, this little bottle was filled with some kind of liquid. It swirled like a galaxy inside, and at the centre a brilliant light that looked like it held its own sun, always at the centre of the swirl, never distorting or shifting out of place, eternal in its circular flow.

It was warm in his hands. He didn’t even realise he’d picked it up.

“Two dollars.” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin, whirling around, the bottle tight in his grip. That old woman had moved. And she’d done so with a quiet stealth some might attribute to a ninja, which was impressive considering how much jewellery she wore.

“Huh?” So eloquent of him.

“Just two dollars, child. The bottle? It is… calling to you, yes?” He couldn’t place her accent, something foreign, European maybe, he had no idea but it definitely didn’t sound any parts American. “I take two dollars for it, will bring you luck.” He looked back to the bottle, eyeing the swirl that still held its pattern even as he’d jostled it, like nothing could knock it out of its gentle swirl, then back to the old woman.

What was two dollars, really?

He had five left, if nothing else the bottle could make a really cool prop, and if it did bring him luck, then hey bonus. Who was he to argue with a mysterious old lady at a Renaissance Faire? “You uh… you got yourself a deal, ma’am.” She smiled brightly at him, eyes alight with both happiness and… something else, something that reflected in the light that he didn’t think hard enough about. She accepted the five dollars he had left, she gave him his change, and a little paper bag filled with tissue to hold his new purchase, which he didn’t really need as he put it right into his own bag after receiving his change, and then she sent him on his way, uncaring as to whether or not he wanted to look at her other wares.

He’d gotten the bottle. Nothing else mattered apparently. Maybe he should have found that suspicious, but why would he?

As soon as he left the little stall, all thought of it seemed to wash away from his mind leaving him freely wandering back to the entrance where his trusty steed, his Van, awaited him to take him home. Blissfully unaware of the little bottle he’d just purchased. Blissfully forgetful of the stall he’d visited, of the old woman he’d just met, of her smile, her eyes, her mysterious accent.

All of which was for the best, really, as if he’d thought about it, if he’d taken a single moment to stop and look back to the little stall at the end of the row, the little stall that held more treasures than it should have been able to for its size, if he’d looked back to wave his goodbyes to the old woman and her treasures, he’d have found nothing.

No stall, no woman, no trinkets or treasures. Just a single row of recycling bins and benches.

But he didn’t look back.

Definitely for the best.

Part 2

[dognonsense]

Question...how do you make your patches? They seem so fuckin cool. I'm working on a vest and a jacket atm, and I'd like for them to be done by the time a pride fest rolls around next month.

Main technique I use for making patches nowadays is linocut. Its best suited for mass production of patches.

Make sure to remember your carving the mirror image so you have to flip all the text. Using tracing paper to flip the design is a good trick, as well as leaving graphite marks on side, then pressing that to the lino to leave the marks in the same spot. Another trick with pencil is to view what ur carving in negative space quickly, put a paper over your design and shade over it with pencil, darker marks will be where you haven't carved yet.

I use speedball fabric ink, it takes 1 week to set then will be fine to be washed. I have magenta, violet, turqouise, and white. They have a limited range of fabric colors at the store. I have seen gold and silver fabric paint for sale and I will investigate it one day.

I use a speedball roller, i find the smaller one to be better than the big one as I can be more precise and waste less ink.

I got a fancy handle for $40 but the screws fallen out so its broken now so just get some heavy books. I used to use a mug. Whats important is pushing your whole body weight into it.

I got a speedball carving tool with different heads I can swap out so I can cut into the lino at different deepness and widths. The heads are stored inside the tool since its hollow and has a screwable removable bottom. I use linocut or dollar store erasers for my carvings. Make sure to wash the ink off your linocuts after your done using them.

A thing to increase the lifespan of you're linocuts is to use wood glue, some cork or wood pieces, and glued the lino stamps onto them. I dont do that yet so my stamps fall appart from overuse sometime and because I cut way too deep into the lino since I hate chatter.

Chatter is the term for in linocutting when theres little messy lines and stuff. It makes the art more recognisably to be linocut. My work is very clean with no chatter which is why people don't notice its linocut usually. This is a stylistic choice, with diy styles having a lot of chatter can look really cool so experiment with leaving bits of extra uncarvered lino sticking out in ur stamp. I need to experiment and buy some more lino.

You can also use multiple linocut stamps together to make a patch. Some patches ive made have like 8 different stamps. Ive made a dog nonsense patch where each letter was their own eraser stamp. You can also use different colors between the different lino stamps on the same patch to add more color. An effect I like to do is first stamp it in color, then the next day I stamp it in white over the same spot but shifted to the right and down slightly. It makes the text have a cool border 3D effect I love doing.

If making a more detailed picture with colors, i reccomend hand painting patches. I use white fabric paint mixed with acrylics for color to get all the shades i need. Acrylic paint mixed with fabric softener works too.

If doing words and you dont want a unique font reccomend using letter stamps. If you want a unique font for that i recommend hand paint for individual or linocut for mass produce.

The positive of letter stamps is the font is neat and can be done quickly. I know from lending them to my roommate that they are very helpful if you have dyslexia and have trouble getting letters right.

A visual effect of the letter stamps is that have a nice boxy edge effect, its an imperfection that adds a personally touch to it. I have both lower and upper case stamps that I got from michaels. You can use a hair band or elastic to hold a bunch of letter stamps together to make a word stamp.

You can use other stamps than letters that you find at craft stores for example my racoon print is a craftstore stamp.

You can also find big plastic letter stencils at the dollar store that you can use to do lettering by filling in gaps with a sponge or or paintbrush. They make special paintbrushes just for using stencils.

You can also get plastic stencils in the shapes of things, i got some for children and use a horse stencil for my horse smoking weed patch. Easier than drawing a horse myself.

Another technique I use for more unique clean patches is gel plating. I haven't tried printing laserprint images with it as ive seen online a lot but I will try one day. What i personally do is use it to make imprints with chains and physical objects.

Another thing i use with gelplates are any stamps or linocuts that dont have words, or words ones that i fucked up with and forgot to mirror when carving. It flips mirror image twice with the gel plate so it goes back to being right again on the patch.

Another patch making technique is using foamboard cut into shapes glued onto cardboard. This is good for a quick test of a design and is very cheap to make. It will not hold under water so is more difficult to clean.

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART TWO)

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn't be welcome. It hadn't been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing.

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike.

"Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?"

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again.

"I'd love that," I wrote.

"Nice," came the reply. "You around to talk?"

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a "yes" to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

"Hey," I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

"Hey Luke," he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. "What are you up to?"

"Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner."

"I haven't eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar."

"I probably need to change," I said. I was still in my workout clothes.

"I bet you look sexy as fuck," he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. "But take your time."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes."

"They don't give a fuck," he said. "But do what you feel comfortable with."

"All right," I said. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Take an Uber," he said. "I'll pay."

"OK." Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that's what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was.

"OK, I'm getting in my Uber," I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply.

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. "I was right," he said softly. "Sexy as fuck."

I blushed. "I didn't think you went for guys that way," I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. "No labels, remember?"

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn't going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out.

"The steak here is great," the man said as he handed me a menu.

"I dunno," I said as I looked over the option. "A burger is fine." Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. "Get the steak," he grunted.

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. "Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?"

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. "Buddy, you don't eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don't know how nice a change that is."

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh.

"I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real." His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. "I like being honest with you, too," I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn't realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

"Since I'm being honest," I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order.

"Two steaks," Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. "And another scotch and..." he turned to me.

"An IPA?" I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order.

"So..." Mike picked up. "Since you're being honest..."

I lowered my voice. "It's like I said before. You don't need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything."

He grinned. "There's always trade offs," he said. "And maybe I enjoy the control."

"Control?" I asked dumbly.

"If you're paying, you get your say in a lot of things," he said. He paused and watched me blush. "You think less of me."

"Honesty, right? You don't know how crushed out I am on you."

He smiled. "I have an idea. It's flattering." He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. "I'm hoping you stay over tonight."

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. "If you want, I will," I said.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I'd eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed.

"So, Luke... you up for me being inside you?"

I nodded, hungrily. "God yeah, Mr. Keenan."

He grinned. "You have much experience?" That concern coming in.

"A couple of guys, yeah," I said. Then with deep candor, I added, "I wish you'd taken my cherry, Mike."

His voice got husky. "I've done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend."

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. "You liked it, I bet," I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I'd have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. "Oh, yeah, buddy," he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he'd set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. "It's probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though."

"I can imagine," I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. "I bet that costs extra huh?" Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. "I don't hire hookers, but don't think I haven't thought about it." His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. "That feel OK, buddy?"

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. "Feels amazing Mr. K." My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked.

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. "You're ready," he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don't know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go.

"There ya go," he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated.

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. "That's goddamn nice, buddy," he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively.

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn't like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck.

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. "I guess I didn't even ask about protection," he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

"This is perfect, Mr. K," I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. "How do you normally like it, Luke?" he asked.

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man's cock pressing in and out. And I'd only had a few experiences bottoming. "Slow, I guess," I replied. But then as I felt up the man's naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. "But this is weird to ask... but I'd like you to show me how I like it."

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. "Yeah?" His nostrils flared. "I can do that buddy."

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn't rough, but I'd never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich's dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who'd have to work for her apartment money.

"Shit!" I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me.

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good.

"Well, fuck me," he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you liked that buddy," he hissed.

I felt weirdly emotional. I don't know, it wasn't just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. "A little too much," I admitted.

That made him smile.

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience.

"I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again," he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. "But I guess not," he continued.

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. "You really do like being on control, don't you, Mike?"

My words caught him by surprise. "I guess I come on strong, huh?"

"A little," I admitted. "I should probably go," I said as I searched for my briefs.

"Will it make you feel better to stay over?" he asked.

It was my turn to be surprised. "You think I'm like a chick?" I asked. I wasn't sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

"It's just a question, Luke," he replied. "I'll give you Uber money."

I swallowed my pride. "I'd love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief."

He smiled. "It's fine buddy. I'm used to game playing. But you're a straight shooter. I like that." Then matter of factly, he added, "I get up early."

"That's cool," I said.

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I'd never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit.

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn't need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all.

Around 5:30 I got a text. "Dinner?"

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. "I'm tied up, Mike," I wrote. "Sorry."

"What time you done?" came that reply.

"I don't know. 10?"

"Come over then. You know the room number."

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn't. I was horny for this man. So bad.

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn't look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks for coming, Luke," he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

"Sure," I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan's cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck.

"Listen, Mr. K... can we talk about the money thing?"

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he'd been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. "Sure. Was it not enough?"

"No, Jesus," I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. "I don't need anything. For real."

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. "You offended?" he asked.

I blushed. "I dunno," I replied. "It didn't make me feel great."

I felt his breath against my neck. "You deserve the money more than Kimberly," he said. "Or the others. It's just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day."

I don't know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. "Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body," he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face.

"Nice," he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. "Lose the shorts, Luke," he said.

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. "Come on buddy," he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher's squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle.

"Fuck yeah," Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time.

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up.

"Easy there, buddy," he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. "I almost blew there."

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn't have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. "Why don't you?" I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man.

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. "Guess I'm like a kid with a new toy," he explained.

It took me a second to get it. "You wanna fuck me again." Half statement, half question.

Mike nodded. "Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight."

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging.

"Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?" I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. "You know, make out a little?"

My buddy's dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I guess I can come on strong, huh?" he asked.

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. "Some, yeah," I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, "Part of me really likes it, but fuck it's intimidating too, you know?"

Mike didn't reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn't kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass.

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him.

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. "All right buddy, get on all fours."

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

"You got a hot fucking ass, Luke," he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy.

"You're looser today, buddy," Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

"Yeah, probably," I responded. "After yesterday."

"I wanna keep you this way," came his deep voice. "Ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Mr. K," I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

"Fuck yeah," Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. "Right back in the saddle."

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. "Ung. Ungh. Ung."

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn't say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan's rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips.

"FUCK!"

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn't gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick.

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back.

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn't even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came.

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn't stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. "You mad at me Luke?" he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed.

I grimaced but shook my head no. "I didn't think I'd like sex that rough," I said softly.

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. "I wasn't talking about the fuck."

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn't worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends.

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. "Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don't want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one."

He was prepared for that. "You're not that, Luke. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out." He looked at me and could tell I still didn't get it. "Listen, it's not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You're a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I'll tell ya." He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

"I guess," I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she'd be more work than fun.

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. "Well, it's just I don't always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy."

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more.

He watched my reaction but continued. "I know that wouldn't be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while."

"Make what worth my while?" I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part.

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. "Luke, I'm not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But..." his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. "Well, bud, I'd love an arrangement when you're able to keep me company when I'm in DC." His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. "I'm pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together."

"You wanna be my sugar daddy?" I asked, point blank. It's not that I was dumb, but I actually didn't think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. "Would it better if we ditched the labels?" he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

"It would," I answered. Then. "OK if I think on it, Mike?"

"Of course," he said.

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn't right for that.

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. "You're a fine young man, Luke," he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. "I mean that."

"Thanks, Mr. Keenan," I said.

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I'd have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I'd probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I'd hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer.

"You'll have to let me know how it works Mr. K," I texted. "But I'm in."

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. "That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy."

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

[beneathashadytree]

SLOW MORNINGS - NANAMI KENTO X READER

Warnings : none I think, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic fluff for daysss <3

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : This was fully inspired by this gorgeous, gorgeous Nanami art I saw on X by @3-aem. I dedicate this piece to my bff Mona (she’s the best ever btw!!!) and to the man himself whom I miss an awful lot.

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Masterlist

Most weekdays, they’d wake up to a gentle kiss to their forehead, almost fleeting. With bleary eyes and still feeling quite groggy, they’d barely make out the figure of their husband, buttoning up his suit jacket as he made his way out of their bedroom. He’d glance back, and the corner of his lips would curl upward ever-so-slightly at seeing them lazily paw at the sheets to pull themself up.

With a quiet, “Good morning. I’ve made you breakfast,” Nanami would quickly set their heart pounding so early in the morning. It didn’t matter how late he was running (he almost never was, anyways, being such a man of routine), he’d always make sure to make enough breakfast for the two of them. It wasn’t anything too fancy by any means, but they were both content by the gesture itself more than anything.

When they’d first started living together, he’d been hesitant to wake them up every morning, but their insistence to see him off to work, and his desire to see them blink up at him so endearingly, won out in the end. And so that’s how their routine was born—out of a gentle love and the little habits that came with it and they built their lives upon.

When their body slowly dragged itself out of a deep slumber and they began to rub the sleep out of their eyes, it took them a bit to register the sun filtering through the slits between the airy bedroom curtains. They danced in the slight breeze, teasing pretty little shadows across the dresser and causing the mirror by the end of the bed to glint a little with each shift of the fabric.

Ah, it must be late morning.

With just a little more difficulty than usual (after all, they had to pay a hefty price for getting to sleep in), they began to shuffle out of bed and across the hall, where they could smell the bittersweetness of roasted coffee beans and fresh cream. It lingered in the air longer than it did on most days, and that was how they knew that their husband had—finally—the time to indulge in his morning cup.

It wasn’t a half-bad sight to wake up to, really. There he was, leaning against the couch’s armrest while his other arm balanced his slumped head, a slightly-weathered book in hand. It seemed that leisurely position was all he could do to stop himself from dozing off, the week’s exhaustion clearly leaving him barely able to stay awake regardless of how engrossed he was by what he was reading.

Though Nanami wore nothing remarkable—just his favorite t-shirt and pants, a little crumpled from the position he sat in—he somehow still managed to look like the picture of elegance. Perhaps it was the doing of the thin-framed glasses perched on his nose; something they’d long egged him on to get prescribed, after having caught him squinting at small-lettered fonts one too many times.

All half-consciousness considered, he seemed to be pretty immersed in what he was reading, and the slow turn of a page despite them having walked in meant that he hadn’t even noticed their presence. A small amused smile came on their face, and they pattered up to him, the cold of the floorboards a little sobering.

“I don’t know how you manage to do it.” Their voice sounded a little scratchy, but that was fine. A slight flicker of his hazel eyes was the only indication that he’d been startled by them, before his face melted into an expression of contentment. His freckles stretched across his fair skin, and with each wrinkle that marked a year of growth, they think they fell in love a little deeper.

They suspected that part of the reason why they found the sight of him so mesmerizing was the knowledge that they get to see him grow old beside them. A fanciful thought, admittedly, but no less true.

“Do what?” Nanami softly asked, shifting his position and setting his legs down on the floor. He didn’t even have to do more than just leave his arms open a little for them to take the invitation and crawl into his lap.

As soon as they settled with their back against the armrest, his free hand began to absentmindedly stroke at their calf, while the other set the book down (a Victorian classic he was currently enamored with, though he regretfully had little time for) in place of the cast aside—and fully drained—coffee cup. Every single object he touched, he seemed to breathe a little life into.

Sometimes, it felt like that was the case with the entire house. Sometimes, it even felt like he did that to themself too.

“Not sleep in on weekends. How you still wake up at a decent hour is beyond me.” They shook their head in mild disbelief, reaching out to push back a strand of blond hair that fell in front of his face. He looked so much more at ease like this; hair just tucked back and not styled to perfection as it usually was. Hell; even his features had softened and the sharp lines and edges of his face had dulled into the familiar warmth they liked to feel underneath their fingertips.

He hummed, partially to voice agreement and partially as he reveled in their touch grazing his cheek. “Force of habit.” It was only when he began to lean in with eyes brimming with affection that they had to put a finger to his lips, causing him to grunt.

“Haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Nanami huffed out a half-laugh, gently pushing their finger down. “Doesn’t really matter,” he mumbled against their lips, before stealing a short but no less sweet kiss. Still, he gave into their wishes, choosing a chaste peck over the slow, all-consuming kisses he liked to indulge them in. He could never say no to whatever they wished.

A quick glance at the empty table brought another thing to their attention. “You haven’t had breakfast yet?”

“No. I thought I’d wait and cook breakfast with you.” His deft strokes against the skin of their leg were almost as distracting as his silken voice. “We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Surely you haven’t missed the mess I end up making,” they said, arching an eyebrow at him, to which he chuckled.

“Not the clean-up part, no,” he agrees, a smile dancing across his lips. “But messy as your methods might be, it’s more efficient that way.”

“And more fun.” They began to begrudgingly slide off his lap, knowing that they would have to get up sooner or later for food before they could laze around for the rest of the day.

“And more fun,” their husband agreed, fondness lacing his softly-spoken words as crow’s feet appeared by his eyes. Like it was merely second nature to him, a large palm rested against the small of their back as they walked to the kitchen, marking the start of a slow, laidback day at home. “Eggs benedict and fruits?”

“Hmm… I’m feeling more like an omelette and sausages today, honestly…”

Taglist : @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @sherlockscumslut @the-foreigner @thispersoniscrazy @em-3456 @angry-and-yandere @avvsfs

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[kandyshoppe]

The Dorms Bra Shopping Pt 3

Octavinelle Dorm

Heartslaybul SavannaClaw Octavinelle (you are here) Scarabia Pomfoire Ignihyde Daisomnia

Azul

Azul knows somewhat about bras, many mermaids had them as swimming with big bazangas can be difficult. He's joined his mother to shop before, but he was pretty young and doesn't remember much except touching soft silky fabrics, and seeing pretty colours. He does do a quick research, and honestly panics after seeing prices online. Please don’t make him pay for these! His money! (He would pay for you but he’s not offering)

While outside he seems calm as a cucumber, hes panicking! If it was just bras, he would be fine, mermaids don't view chests as sexual or anything, but the panties! He's close to exploding! Please help him! Oh no, he saw stockings, and garter belts. He’s officially a boiled octopus. Please, don’t do this to him! And DONT tell the twins! (Spoiler alert, they already know everything)

He does end up helpful with bras, he is a bit of a mama's boy so he asked her some questions a few nights before about options. But he is a bit of a boiled octopus around panties and any stockings! He does not care about chests, at all! but man, legs are another thing! As long as you stay around bras and chests he doesn’t care. He’s not creepy, or gross, or even uncomfortable. Like I said, mermaids don’t view chests sexually. A chest is a chest.

He obviously enjoys the pastel cooler colours, and the fancy put together looks. While he does like the matching stocking looks, he can't look at you if you wear any. if you find some swimsuits to try on, he gets nervous that you want to see his mer form. Calm him down that he doesn't have to show it to you if he doesn't want too. But he does enjoy if you find some seashell patterns. They just remind him of back home, which yes he knows sounds a little weird, but shut up!

He does end up talking to his mom afterwards, and she probably ends up laughing at him a bit over being panicked about legs, but also understands and tells him she was amazed when she first saw a pair of legs. He is a bit nervous around you afterwards, but calms down pretty quickly at least. You now owe him a date! Payment and all! You end up being forced to go to a coin collector convention with him, which is somehow more fun than you expected.

Jade

Why would you want to bring jade? I love him, but he’s so…unsettling, even while dating, that honestly…either way let’s say you do invite him. He smiles creepily and doesn’t say yes or not. Just smiles and walks off! Why does he do this! He refuses to say yes or not, he just changes the subject. He somehow figures out where you meet you weather you told him or not, and now you’re at the mall! Have fun!

He is creepy while shopping but not pervert wise, more of like a random murderer doing his shopping between his killings. He follows silently, holds your bags, and just has such a menacing aura that a few people come ask if you’re okay. You sigh, say that’s just how he is, you’re fine, then you turn and scold him. It doesn’t work.

Jade ends up going a little crazy over a pair of mushroom bras and panties he finds. He ends up seeming a little less creepy by info dumping in the mushroom species in the patterns. He enjoys the soft cottage core based, soft pretty patterns, he spends his entire allowance on some cutesy stuff. For you, for him, probably finds a pair of mushroom sports socks for Floyd. He started off scaring the other customers, but now he has a flock of people around him as he gives a lecture on the flora and fauna. The workers end up having to ask you to leave cause you’re causing a bit of a ruckus, so you leave and go get some food.

I feel Jade doesn’t often eat “fast foods” so he is surprised at how greasy and salty everything is! He’s like a dog with peanut butter he can’t get the taste out of his mouth! He ends up giving you his meal and chugs both of your drinks before getting another one. He has been traumatized and now packs food for your dates. Never again!

Jade enjoyed the date, not the food, and wants to go shopping again! He looked online and found a mushroom cologne, and a garden center near the mall! You don’t know how you end up going there, but you have to hit him when he points to something and says “this is the one that sits on your hip on those panties!”

Floyd

Another why would you take him with you!?! There are two ways this goes. If he’s grumpy, he flat out says no. Hope you get him in a grumpy mood cause ofherwise he’s coming with! And yes, he is squeezing and hugging you the entire time! Draped over you like a blanket, or dragging you around to look at different things! Again mermaids don’t view chests like land dwellers, but socks, shoes and underwear are so foreign to him! There’s a pretty good chance he goes comando.

He has NO decorum! He’s not creepy about your chest, but he’s treating the store like a playground! Totally puts a bra on his eyes like an eye mask. Panties on his head like a hat. Socks like gloves. If you didn’t know his actual age you would be questioning how old he truly was. He’s acting like a three year old. Probably try’s to drink the perfume. Please reign him in.

Once he gets his goofy out of his system (you took him to a parkour place or something to burn energy off) he is petting the bras and panties. People think he’s a pervert until you call him and he tries over like an oversized sea puppy! He is scaring off any perverts and store associates so good luck getting any help! Once one braves coming over, he is asking many questions and surprisingly listening. He asks to get sized, and gets mad when his chest is only at like trainer bra sizes. But he drags you over to try and find one for him. He finds them itchy and uncomfortable and changes his mind.

He likes the softer looks surprisingly! Baby dolls, frills, lace and bows! He feels like back home when hunting, strong and powerful! He would protect you but also destroy you. He also likes the different textures cause running his hands over it there is always a different touch! A surprise every time.

He does end up getting a pair of boxer briefs, and some nice socks since he’s a shoe guy (which is canon apparently!?!) so he can have his shoes look nice, or crazy socks, bright neons to annoy Azul. You both eat food, and he is disgusted but some reason enjoys the food anyway! If you get chicken he snaps the bones and eats the marrow, if you also do that he fights to get your bones.

[luvryeo]

don't tease — jung wooyoung

0.1K MILESTONE EVENT ⟢ CLOSED fem!reader , afab!reader , smut but kinda not full on smut (still explicit sexual content tho , cw : pet names (baby, pretty girl) , wc: 0.9K , uhm here you go babe ! @jaehunnyy good luck ily <3 MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

parties aren’t necessarily your thing, but oftentimes, you still love what they bring; attention. and not just any attention, but attention from your boyfriend. it’s not that he neglects you by any stretch at other times, it’s just that the neon lights and fancy clothes are a guarantee that he wants you. 

he’s never subtle about it either, his hands are always on you, slipping just far enough in certain places to make you flustered. he presses kisses to your neck and the soft spot behind your ear and makes his friends cringe at all the physical contact. but he doesn’t care; he loves it so much, and he knows that you do too. 

and tonight he just looks so goddamn fine in that black tank top and the big chain necklace that sits right at the base of his neck, that you can’t hold back yourself. off in a corner with minimal eyes to pry, you press a quick kiss to his collarbone because he’s just far too irresistible.

“baby?” he sounds a touch surprised, which is warranted considering your usually shyer nature. there’s teasing in his voice as well, because he’s been very aware of the way you’ve been staring at him since the moment he picked you up in his car. and of course, when you look at his face with a lightly bashful gaze, there’s a cocky smirk planted on his lips.

“yeah?” you question innocently, as if you’re expecting him to have a real question for you. he huffs out a small laugh.

“just couldn’t help it, could you?” he asks, far too happy about this all. “is my baby being bold tonight?”

you fight the smile making its way onto your face. shaking your head and staring at his nice shoes, you’re suddenly shy again.

“oh, don’t go all shy on me now, baby. that’s not fair now, is it?” with gentle fingers, he lifts your chin up so you’re looking him in the eye. you’re not even sure what to say to that, tempted to let out a tiny whimper at the way he tilted your head up to show him just how much that action turned you on.

his hand shifts to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer by the waist and molds his lips over yours. he almost kisses you like you’re alone, but he pulls away far sooner than he would if you really weren’t surrounded by other people. 

then both hands are on your hips, tugging you impossibly closer so that you’re flush against his body and you can feel his cock starting to harden. a small moan escapes your throat at the feeling, but the sound is swallowed up by the noise of your surroundings. your face feels even more flushed with heat than before, if that were even possible, and you’re still struggling to look him in the eyes, so you let your gaze continue to roam his exposed shoulders and collarbone.

“i’d do anything to have you alone right now,” he rumbles into your ear. “but i promised to stay all night.”

again, your flip switches, a touch of boldness and a wave of want overcoming your senses just long enough for you to say it. “if we were alone right now,” you begin, looking at him with pleading eyes, “what would you do to me?”

“fuck, baby, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans. “you really wanna know, sweet girl?”

“yes please,” you beg, your voice barely audible even to him. 

“well,” he starts, dragging out the word unnecessarily long to tease you. his thumbs maneuver their way under the fabric of your shirt and drag against your bare skin in a way that makes you shiver. “i’m willing to bet that you’re already wet, am i right, baby? god, i wish i could check right  now.” you just nod at his question, desperate for him to keep going. “so, if we were alone right now,” his eyes are alight with teasing and lust, “i’d pull down these stupid shorts of yours and rip off those cute white panties that i know you’re wearing right now and i’d suck on your clit and shove my fingers up your cunt until you're begging me to stop.”

“wooyoung,” you whine out, trying to keep yourself from grinding against him and feeling as though you’re already out of breath.

“yeah, baby? do you like hearing me talk like this?” he brushes his lips over the shell of your ear. “are you my dirty little girl, desperate to hear how i’m gonna fuck you tonight?”

“don’t tease,” you complain.

“i just can’t help it, baby. you’re too easy to tease.” he presses a kiss to your nose that almost makes you forget what you really want. you give him a sly smile and he quirks his eyebrow.

“aren’t you gonna keep going?” you giggle just a little bit. “or are you too shy?” he can’t even hold back the grin on his face as he shifts one of his hands to land right on your ass, making you gasp.

“i think that’s you, pretty girl,” he smirks. “but, if you insist.. then i’ll make you watch me while i fuck you dumb with my cock because i want to see your pretty face when i make you cum. does that sound good to you, baby?”

[celluloidbroomcloset]

(Carrying on from this post. Note that I'm really just sharing my own thoughts here.)

Ed is as fully steeped in toxic masculinity as Izzy, but his reaction to it is different. The pirate life is destroying him slowly, and it's destroying him from the moment we meet him. Stede offers him an alternative; Stede is outlandish for a pirate, but Ed doesn't see this as an inherent weakness. It's something that he finds immediately fascinating. The longer he's around Stede, the more exciting he finds Stede's world and its expression of masculinity. He does "fancy a fine fabric," and he likes the things that Stede shows him - both for themselves and, increasingly, because Stede loves them. He fully indulges in Stede's games and stories - his own crew remark on how happy and open he is. To Izzy, this appears a further descent into unacceptable masculinity.

It should be noted that Izzy has been angry at Ed for moving outside of the Blackbeard persona before we even meet them. Izzy remarks that Ed has been getting gradually crazier and crazier, and that Izzy himself has been protecting him. We don't see much of that immediate past, but this is a case where we can extrapolate from what we do see and what we learn about the characters. Ed is having a breakdown. He's bored, he's tired, and he's contemplating death as the final great adventure. He tells Stede that nothing is fun anymore; he barely has to do anything. Being Blackbeard is exhausting and isolating.

Izzy sees this too, but he draws the wrong conclusions - he thinks Ed needs to simply "man up." He remarks on the struggle it takes to "manage your increasingly erratic moods" without apparently understanding the reason behind them (which Ed offers up pretty clearly, both to Izzy and then to Stede). Stede and Ed's relationship represents an even further "descent" as far as Izzy is concerned.

The conversation in "Discomfort" and in "Wherever You Go" are clearly mirrored. In the first, Ed is finding light at the end of the tunnel in the form of Stede and Izzy is desperately trying to push him back to where Blackbeard lurks. In "Wherever You Go," Izzy further pushes Ed back into the toxic masculinity box, his prescribed masculine role, by directly insulting his manhood and insinuating that his expression of grief is emasculating.

Again, this is not an issue of Ed being affected by Stede's absence, necessarily, but how he expresses it. Izzy's homophobia is very much about outward expression and what is and is not acceptable to be thought "a man." Ed is expressing grief in what Izzy sees as an effeminate "namby-pamby" way - wearing Stede's clothing, crying, eating marmalade, writing songs, and trying, in his own imperfect way, to replicate the things that he loved about being on the Revenge with Stede.

But the only acceptable emotion, for men, is anger. Not for nothing is Izzy's main emotional expression in Season 1 rage; Wee John even refers to him as "that little angry fecker," and we rarely see him genuinely smile, laugh, or cry. Ed can be heartbroken, that's something Izzy cannot control, but he cannot show it like that. He must be furious. He must be angry. He must be violent. He must want to kill Stede for inflicting pain on him. He must be Blackbeard.

Izzy expresses near joy when Ed tries to strangle him - "There he is" - and threatens him if he doesn't go back into the correct persona.

Ed and Izzy do come from the same world, and they have shared experiences. But Ed's fall into the Kraken"Blackbeard persona takes all the internalized grief and pain and expresses it using the only emotion he's now permitted - anger. The result is horrific, to the extent that Izzy himself is dismayed at how far things have gone. But Ed's reaction is a natural progression - if this is what men are, then he's going to be everything that a man is supposed to be. That the result is monstrous is very deliberate, on the part of Ed and on the part of the show.

Izzy attempts, too late, to bring back Stede's ethos by invoking the "talk it through as a crew" line. He and the crew are genuinely worried about what has happened to Ed, but it is clear that Izzy himself does not understand his culpability. Ed said at the start that the only thing left for him was death; having been stripped of all the things that were joyful or soft, and therefore unmasculine, all he has left is death. His only mode of outward expression is anger and violence. There is no "talking it through."

None of this is to say that Izzy deserves to be shot, simply that this is the natural thematic outcome of everything that has been developing since we first see them together in Season 1. "Kraken" is indeed Ed's fault; he chooses to push Lucius off the ship, discarding first the "fine thing" that represented his connection to Stede, to softness, and to all the gentler forms of masculinity that he's now going to destroy. Ed's behavior belongs to Ed and Izzy's to Izzy.

It is not for nothing that Ed only cries in private. The viewer sees the grief and sorrow lurking beneath the surface, the fantasies about marrying Stede, the sobbing at night. But on the surface, Blackbeard must remain Blackbeard, and the only acceptable emotion is anger.

This descent on the part of Ed turns itself around on Izzy, too. The invocation of Ed's angry masculinity then becomes violence inflicted on Izzy himself. Izzy very much becomes the focal point of Ed's rage, beginning with the loss of his toes and leading to the loss of his leg.

Once more, Izzy's perception is unreliable. He says that it is Ed's feelings for Stede that have resulted in the toxic atmosphere on the ship. But it is Izzy himself who has told Ed that his earlier emotional expression is wrong, even subhuman - a "thing" he's become. It is the warping of grief and pain into anger that has resulted in Ed's madness and suicidal depression, and Ed's anger with Izzy is not misplaced. In a lot of ways, Izzy has shot himself in the foot.

The darker elements of this show indicate how deeply and horribly warping toxic masculinity is, but also that there is hope in the depths, not just for Ed...but for Izzy.

(Gonna carry on with the queer joy part of this later, because we should really remember that this show is very much about not living in darkness, even if darkness is a part of us.)

[sabcandoit]

as you wish was an AMAZING fic!! ! i applaud to you :] for requests, i wass hoping you'd accept one where reader wears a pretty dress for Noir?? it can be either smut or fluff honestly!! or a little bit of both.

hope you have a lovely day!!

Thank you! Here it is!

DESIRE

Spiderman Noir x Fem reader

Summary: The reader "puts on a pretty dress" and they go to a party for a friend of Peter's. As the night progresses, Peter finds himself unable to keep calm around you, overcome with lust, and overall he's just really entranced by your looks <3

Warnings: Fluff! No actual smut this time, but they get close haha. Its a good mix of both of you "taking control" here and there.

A/N: Thanks for all the love on my first fic, "As You Wish"! I love making these and it's great to see so much support! Also I cant help but imagine Gregory Peck as Noir lmao. He's so handsome too. My requests are open too, so don't be shy! Enjoy!

 “It's time to leave now darling!” Peter announced from the living room. You were in the bathroom, still trying on earrings and other jewelry.  You had no need to get so dressed up to show stop Peter with your looks, it didn't take much effort. He never stopped calling you “Beautiful” or “Lovely” even when you were in the laziest outfit and hadn't put any makeup on or done your hair. Now here you were, stalled in your mirror trying to look as perfect as can be simply for the fun of it. You were going out anyway, to a birthday ball of sorts, and would have others looking at you.  

You sported a dark red evening gown with straps and a mid-length v-neck cut, just long enough to show a small amount of cleavage. The back was zippered up and it cinched in perfectly at your waist. The fabric ran smoothly down from there, the skirt long and flowy. You had done your makeup with a fine red lip and a fancy updo, swept up and braided. The shorter pieces of hair that fell out were styled in a wavy, brushed-back look and pinned up. Simple gold earrings and a thin chain gold necklace adorned your body as well as equally delicate gold bracelets. Peter got you this set which surprised you. It was expensive and dainty, not the sort of thing he would especially pick out for you, but it stood out to him as something that would look beautiful on you. You were all ready, you just needed to grab your heels, handbag, and coat.

 As you exited the room, you saw Peter, dressed in a black suit and a black bowtie. His hair was slicked back, bits of it undone and curled on his forehead. He was putting on his black trench coat in the foyer when he saw you. His lips parted for a moment as his gaze settled. “Oh…” he said with a sort of delighted inflection. You smiled, looking down as you grabbed your shoes and put them on clumsily, chuckling softly. He smiled at you too, watching. As you returned, you grabbed your red handbag and a long black trench coat that matched Peter's. “Ready to go Spiderboy?” you giggled as his loving stare never dissipated. “Oh yes.” he snapped out of it. He was flustered and you were proud of it, yet you had to act oblivious. He fixed his black gloves on, stretching his long fingers out. 

“You look beautiful.” he stepped close to you, putting a hand on your back. “Thank you,” you responded as you both walked out of the doorway, grabbing his hat before leaving. You just grinned up at him lovingly. A gentle hand led you both to the car. He opened the passenger door and stepped back, outstretching a hand, “Sit love”. You nodded your head as you stepped in. He closed the door and walked over to his side and sat down, starting the old black Ford. As he drove to the party, you both listened to the quiet radio playing through the dark night. You could cut the tension with a knife, it was so thick even though the silence between you too was welcomed and comfortable. You both stole little glances and would smile when you caught each other. 

Peter finally was the one to speak up, “Have I commented on your dress yet?” he chuckled handsomely. “It’s irresistible on you, doll.” One of his gloved hands reached out and grasped gently on your thigh. You blushed as he caressed it more, saying in a lower voice, “I may not be able to control myself.” You only blushed more. “Peter…” you sighed. “Not now, love” you spoke again. His hand didn't leave your thigh but he did shut up, tensing his other hand on the wheel. 

You both now arrived at the party. Peter stepped out of the parked car and approached your door. As he opened it and you stepped out, you smiled at him. He straightened up, slightly flushed as he put his hand on your lower back again. He couldn't help but stare down at you, your body, and the dress. The jewelry! How could he not have noticed? “I see you're wearing the gold I got you,” he whispered enticingly in your ear as you both walked into the extravagant building, red carpet to greet them and all. “Oh yes, you finally noticed!” you teased, wrapping your arm around his, lightly touching his side in the process, making him gasp. Looking down at you, he saw your eyes looking intently back at him. “Handsome,” you mumbled, looking back down as you walked. He looked in front of himself, trying to keep his composure, your compliment almost melting him right there. As the escorts opened the building doors, the party was huge and bright. People were all over drinking and talking. Of course, you were here for one of Peter’s friends. You walked more in and eventually saw some people you recognized. As you dragged Peter to talk with others, he stayed suspiciously quiet. Maybe something was wrong? Was he not feeling well?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOIR’S POV:

That dress. Her in it. She’s too gorgeous for her own good. These men around us, are they all looking at her? If only they knew the things I would do to them if they laid a hand on her or said something even slightly inappropriate.

 I could care less about the people we are talking to, I just want to be with her, alone. Give her all the compliments I want. Tell her all of the things I want to do to her… I can't keep up with this anymore, yet we still have to wish my friend a happy birthday. But look at her body, the dips and curves, her smile and laughter. It's enough to make a grown man crumble. And that jewelry set I gave her, it makes her look only more ravishing. How I wish I could unclasp that necklace and slip off that bracelet… kiss the places where they once were… make her blush and fluster. Ah, the things I would do for this woman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, well I'm not sure that's how it went!” you chuckled, conversing about memories with an old friend. “It had to be!” your friend laughed back. As you both smiled and talked more, Peter’s hand touched yours. Perhaps it was accidental? It now fully grasped yours and you could feel his intense need. Now this was not accidental. You tried to listen to your friend's stories but couldn't focus, his hand was treading down your arm and playing with your dress.

 “Darling,” he leaned down to your ear and whispered, “I'm afraid we must leave.” Your eyes widened as you looked up at him with a sort of offended look. “Peter…” you stammered, looking into his lust-filled eyes. “Peter, we can't leave yet.” “Ah, forget about that.” one of his arms was now wholly wrapped around your waist possessively as he interrupted the conversation around you. “Excuse me, but my lady and I must be going. We have somewhere to go early in the morning and you know how hard it can be when you don't have a full night’s rest.” he chuckled with his free hand in the air. 

They all bid you goodnight as Peter led the way out into the parking lot. He walked slightly in front of you, holding your hand. You stopped, saying, “Peter, that wasn't very kind to the hosts. After all, you were the one they wanted to see”. He turned around and put one hand on your hip and the other on your cheek, pulling you in. He kissed slowly and passionately like he had been waiting for this. As you parted, you stood, out of breath. “Well…” your hands now up in front of your chest. He smirked down at you. It took you a moment to let go of his gaze, you needed to show him how he couldn't affect you like that. As you left his hold, a hand of yours lingered on his coat lapel, you walked in front of him to the car. 

As you made it to your side, he came quickly behind, opening the door for you. “Oh doll, don't be mad at me.” he playfully begged as you sat in your seat. You just rolled your eyes with a silly smile. As he got into the car he looked over at you, more serious and amorous. You didn't dare look back at him, afraid you would disarm at his loving expression. A strand of hair loosened, coming down in front of your eyes. He of course couldn't leave it hanging in the way of your beautiful face, so he brought a hand up, stroking it behind your ear, making you turn to face him. You locked eyes, his with intent want and yours softening. “My love… absolutely gorgeous.” he smiled gently before departing his gaze and starting the car. As he focused on the road, he spoke out to you, “It was a good idea of yours to wear that dress. You look stunning.”. You blushed, loving the attention. Maybe you could take advantage of this? 

“Why thank you. You always look well put together in a suit.” you traveled a hand up to his neck, caressing for a moment before pulling on the bowtie and loosening it. A visible blush was creeping up his cheeks as he glanced over at you. As you completely freed the bowtie from his neck, you tossed it to the side, unbuttoning a few of the buttons on his white dress shirt. “Sweetheart,” he groaned. “What?” you teased, one of the straps holding your dress on your shoulders slipping down. He noticed this, causing him to inhale sharply. 

He couldn't continue driving. His self-control was not that strong. As he pulled over and parked, he turned over to you, took off his suit coat, and rolled up his sleeves, the top buttons all loosened. You blushed and backed up in your seat, the skirt part of your dress riding up and the neckline lowering showing more cleavage. He started taking off his gloves, pulling one finger off at a time as he looked over at you periodically, each time with intensified hunger. After he successfully got them off and threw them at the side he moved over in his seat, grabbing onto your face and giving you a fiery kiss. As you both moved your hands around each other’s bodies feverishly, you mumbled into a kiss, “We can't get much done in here, Peter.” giggling. “Nonsense.” he desperately gripped at your hips. “Allow me to demonstrate.” he chuckled attractively before feeling for your dress’ zipper and pulling it down, warm hands grazing along your back.

[chao-thicc-hcs]

If you don’t want to do this it’s completely fine.

I wonder how tr characters would react when they overstimulation yn sm that she used her safe word 🧍🏻‍♀️🤸🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️ if so, please add sanzu ran baji 🤧🤧👀

a/n: tumblr keeps flagging and labeling my posts, so I will force myself to use "cock", cuz it will deffo be better ☠️

featuring: baji keisukue, sanzu haruchiyo, ran haitani

off to hornyland we go!

↳warning(s): idk

↳ALL CHARACTERS ARE 20+. MINORS DNI

↳reader is afab!

IMPORTANT! ON RAN'S PART, THEY BOTH HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS BEFORE AND THE READER IS CONSENTING TO THIS!!!!

Baji↷

He was angry today. Much to your own surprise, he wouldn't even soften around you, nor would melt under the way your hands cupped his face and brushed his hair, and he didn't want to talk about his anger. He just wanted to fuck you senseless. And you, of course, didn't mind it.

Shaking under his movements, your eyes almost doing a 360 at how rough he was, your legs felt like giving up and you were on the verge of passing out. Tears were rolling down your cheeks so thick and frequent you could see them dropping on the bedsheets. You were screaming, voice cracking from the amount of pressure you were putting on your vocal chords.

It was all too much, his cock was so immaculately hitting your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure over your entire lower area, his rough hand tugging onto your hair, other one squeezing your hips like you were going to slip away at any second. The bed was shaking, so were you, so was Baji.

-V-vanilla...!- you moaned out, and his movements slowed down. Baji leaned down and whispered in your ear, his eyes filled with worry and his voice softer than before

-Are you okay, dollie? Did I hurt you?

-Ah, no... just...

There was a minute of silence between the two of you as you tried catching your breath and stopping the tears from flowing down. Baji stopped what he was doing and hugged you from behind, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders and massaging your lower abdomen.

-Doll, should we stop here?

-N-no... I was just overstimulated, you were way harsher than usual. I just need a minute to calm down.

-'m sorry...

-Hey, don't stress it, I will be okay, I am calmer now.

Baji nodded and placed you to lay comfortably down once again, inserting his entire length inside of you, making you squirm, still sensitive from before. -'m gonna make you cum now, babydoll, but do tell me if I am too rough again.

-No, be as rough as you can get, my love, I can handle it now.-with your words followed an abrupt increase in his pace, making you arch your back and scratch his back, loud, lewd moans escaping your lips.

-I will make you scream so loud that our neighbors will be knocking on our door.

Sanzu↷

You were supposed to be on a fancy dinner with his gang, chatting and eating inside a lavish restaurant, sitting on a huge, round table with an expensive, velvet tablecloth. Sanzu, however had other plans, and he had you sitting on top of him inside the toilet stall, riding his cock like crazy.

He couldn't take it any longer. How could you wear the sexiest silk dress known to mankind that beautifully hugged your body, emphasizing your tits and ass, and not expect Sanzu to get hard on the spot? Calloused hands roamed around your butt and thighs, wrinkling the once neatly ironed dress you wore, your panties were torn apart and thrown on the ground. Sanzu's face was buried into your tits, sucking and nibbling on them, leaving purple marks and bites, inhaling the remaining scent of your sweet perfume on.

-Just like that, babygirl, gosh - you're taking me so well, you're gonna make me cum so quickly.

He was big, and you barely fit him inside. Your hands were grabbing the fabric of his suit on his shoulders, your lips placed on his forehead, leaving lipstick stains. His thrusts were rough and harsh, the echoes of skin slapping wafting around the bathroom stall. Your hips moved in unison with his, and it felt as if you were seeing stars falling down in front of you. His eyes stared right at yours, smirking and enjoying the way your expressions change with every second he thrusts inside of you.

-M-m, Sanzu... deeper..

He managed to get his entire cock inside, filling you up so good, lewd moans and whimpers escaping your mouth, eyes shut and head arching back, exposing the skin on your neck he immediately latched onto. -You're filling me up so good, shit...-your walls were clenched around his cock, but you didn't want to cum just yet.

-Say it.

-Huh?

-Say the word.

He said in a stern tone, squeezing your ass tightly, leaving crescent marks. You bit your lip, hearing people coming in and out of the bathroom, embarrassed to speak up again, you didn't want to get caught. As soon as it became quiet once again, Sanzu thrusted harshly, hitting your cervix with force.

-Say.it.

-Daddy!-you moaned out, gritting your teeth.

Sanzu was riled up, his pace accelerated, relentlessly hitting your cervix over and over with his long, veiny cock. The light pain mixed with pleasure made your vision go fuzzy, sweat beads going down your forehead, lightly smearing the mascara and eye pencil you were wearing. Your hands were convulsing, your legs were trembling, unable to support your weight anymore.

-P-pe-ach!-you barely finished the word, and your legs gave up, you couldn't move on his lap anymore. Sanzu ceased his movements, letting go of your ass and helping you stand up. The pinknette helped you fix your dress in front of the big mirror in the bathroom, his hands wrapping around your waist in an embrace.

-You did so good, babygirl. Always making me feel so good.-he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, licking your lower lip

-So did you, Sanzu. I was just overstimulated.

-I know, now let's go to the others, or they will get suspicious. And keep your panties off, I will finish you off with my fingers.~

Ran↷

It was around 2AM when Ran woke up from a wet dream, hard and sweaty. You were sleeping, your back facing him, wearing his oversized T-shirt and had his boxers on. The view just made him go insane, to the point where his cock was hurting and already leaking with precum. What a beautiful sight you were.

Ran slowly removed his and the boxers you were wearing, revealing the sight of your pretty pussy in front of him. His mouth filled with saliva, and lightly licked your entrance, just so he can get you wet properly, and his cock found its way inside of you. You just cannot miss how good he filled and stretched you, because he packed in girth. You woke up, a light purr escaping your mouth, still drowsy from the sudden feeling.

-Aw, my kitten has woken up, do you like it when I do this, hm?

Your clit never went unnoticed. His fingers made their way to your sensitive clit, massaging it slowly and sensually. You lifted your leg a little, moving with him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he moaned in a raspy voice, sending chills down your spine. The room was filled with the sinful mixture of moans and skin slapping. Silk sheets wrinkling under your bodies.

As your moans got louder, Ran's hips moved faster and faster, fingers still playing with your clit, stimulating you. His free hand grabbed your neck, squeezing it tightly, making you light-headed and drooling from your mouth. Manipulated under his touch, your drowsiness suddenly disappeared, your eyes widening at how close you were to cumming, but Ran's fingers worked wonders, and his cock was oh so sweetly hitting the spot.

-Ran, rose!-you moaned out and Ran stopped moving.

-What rose, exactly, my kitten?

-...white...

You had your fair share of Ran overstimulating you, and you loved it when he continued while your body convulsed under him, but just in case - white rose meant to continue, red rose meant period is near, and yellow rose meant stop. Ran smirked and his movements continued, but he began slower this time, teasing the living fuck out of you.

-Just you wait, I don't intend to sleep anymore. The night is ours.

©chao-thicc-hcs. reblogs are deeply appreciated, i read all your tags.

[palipunk]

Hey! I love your art a lot, and you've helped me learn a lot about other things aswell. I just wanted to thank you for all that! ❤️

(This part is optional: I was wondering if you have any process videos of the full body character designs, you do? Like with the different outfits? I love the texture of that particular style of yours so much and would love to learn to integrate some aspects into my own art, If you would allow for that?)

Hi and thank you! It's much appreciated and I'm glad you stuck around :)

That's totally fine! Unfortunately, I don't think I have any process videos of the character designs (they take me a while and I go back and forth a lot with outfits so I never have space for them on my computer) but I can give a run-through of what I do!

- this is only applicable for CSP -

Step One:

First Image: So I start with the base, I go about these like those paper dolls. I sketch these out, line them, and color them in as I would any other lineart - however I merge the layers after I'm done. They are always bald because if I'm going for an outfit lineup I can change up the hairstyle depending on the clothes. Second Image: After I merge all the layers and lower the opacity, I can sketch the outfits on a different layer - If there are smaller details I want to include I usually sketch them in a different color so I can see it clearly.

Step Two:

First Image: after sketching out what I want, I turn down the opacity for the sketch layer and line over that. I use a really high stabilization because I have shakey hands and it always looks clean with a high stabilization. For things like jewelry, I don't always do line art (mostly depends on how small it is) but I save it for later. Second Image: I don't always do hair as a solid color but In this case, I painted the hair on a layer above both the lineart, base, and coloring layer. Coloring the lineart is pretty standard, nothing fancy (I use the fill tool to speed up time often). Just make sure the colors are differentiated enough so you can use the color gamut tool in the next step.

Step Three:

Images One & Two: With the lineart fully colored, you can select individual colors and add or draw patterns. Most of the patterns I use are from the Csp gallery (bunabi has good ones up I use often). If you have the selection on a different layer, you can change up the layer filter or even do another select color gamut on the pattern and shade/color it yourself (this is how I do metallic fabrics). Once you're done adding patterns, merge everything except the base layer and lineart.

Step Four:

Images One & Two: For things like jewelry that would be too small to line, I freehand a silhouette of the jewelry with a bright neon color, then select the color gamut on the neon color, and then select the color outline so it has the appearance of me doing itty bitty lineart for it. I go back in on the color layer, shade it, and color it as metal, and then bam. You are all done!

Smaller things: After everything is done sometimes I'll go back in with a dark pen and go over some of the lineart where fabric creases just to give it more depth or I'll put a color filter over the final drawing just to make it all a bit more cohesive.

This is the brush I use for softer lineart:

And this is the brush I use for more thin, detailed, lineart:

Hope this helped a little, happy drawing!

[unclewaynemunson]

aight this is gonna get angsty

One morning Steve’s car won’t start when he has to get to work, so he calls Eddie to ask if he can give him (and Robin) a ride. Eddie, who knows a thing or two about cars, offers to try and fix the problem instead; it’s Saturday so he has nowhere else to be anyway. Eddie drives to the Harrington house and they swap keys. While Steve drives Eddie’s van into town, Eddie goes to work on Steve’s fancy car.

It doesn’t take long before one of the neighbors sees him: the infamous Munson boy, never up to any good, in the middle of Loch Nora, bent over a car that’s probably worth more than his own home. That can only mean one thing, right?

When the Hawkins police get a call from the concerned neighbor, they quickly get into action. Attempted car theft by the guy who already has a name for possessing various kinds of drugs, the guy whose father is behind bars for grand theft auto and arson? Doesn’t sound too far-fetched, and definitely sounds more exciting than the usual bar fights or property damage complaints that take up the majority of their jobs ever since the Upside Down has been defeated for good.

‘I wasn’t stealing his car, I was fixing it! I’m his friend,’ Eddie splutters when two cops forcefully push him against the side of the car, but they only laugh at that while they handcuff him.

‘Yeah, sure you are.’ Deputy Callahan utters a sharp laugh. ‘Steve Harrington’s friend, good one, freak.’

‘If you call Hopper -’

‘Chief's daughter is ill and we can do our jobs just fine without him. You’re coming with us, punk.’

Rationally, Eddie knows that it’ll all be sorted out in no time. He’ll be kept in detention at the station for a while, they’ll call Steve at Family Video, and Steve will probably lose his shit and get him out in no time. He knows that. But merely knowing it doesn’t help him when he’s all alone in a tiny cell with nothing but his thoughts. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t end up like this - like his father. Yet here he is. Another Munson in jail for stealing cars. For stealing Steve’s car. How the hell could he ever have thought that he’d be good enough for someone like Steve?

By the time Steve gets to the station and his loud voice echoes through the hallways as he follows deputy Callahan to Eddie’s cell, inexhaustibly scolding the man, Eddie has already lost it completely. 

‘Fuck,’ Steve mumbles, his voice suddenly much softer, when he sees Eddie all folded into himself in the corner of the cell, his arms wrapped around his pulled-up legs and his cheeks wet with tears.

As soon as the cell door opens, he rushes over to Eddie and kneels down in front of him, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee.

‘Hey, Eddie, I got you, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, okay? I’m here. I’m getting you out.’

But Eddie is crying so desperately that he can’t even speak.

‘Nothing happened, alright? I’m here,’ Steve repeats. ‘They already dropped all the charges. You got nothing to worry about.’ He pauses for a moment, looks at Eddie intently. ‘Is this about your father?’

Eddie shakes his head. ‘It’s... It’s ‘bout you,’ he manages to get out in between sobs.

‘About me?’ Steve stares at him in confusion.

‘You shouldn’t... Shouldn’t be friends... with me, Steve.’

‘Woah, Eddie, come here.’ Steve drops down onto both knees so that he can wrap his arms around Eddie, gently stroking his back and letting him cry against the fabric of his Family Video vest until Steve’s whole shoulder is wet and Eddie finally has calmed down a little bit.

‘What made you say that?’ he finally asks, softly, when Eddie’s breathing has gone back to normal and he isn’t sobbing anymore.

‘I don’t know why we were pretending that we - that we could be friends,’ Eddie says, voice still thick with tears and sounding a little bit choked. ‘I’m nothing like you. When I’m at your house, everyone thinks I’m stealing your car. And that would make way more sense than the truth, wouldn’t it? They’re right. I’m not - I can’t be - I’ll never be good enough for you. I’m too much like him - just look at me now! You’d never end up in this place when you’re fixing someone’s car. But I’m just like him, and that means I’ll only end up hurting everyone I love - I’ll only end up hurting you.’ 

‘Eddie.’ Steve says his name so softly, while combing through his hair so gently, and Eddie doesn’t believe he deserves any of that kindness.

‘You’re nothing like your father. Everything you told me about him... It’s nothing like you. None of it is. You’re - you’re so kind and brave and loving and good. You shouldn’t believe a thing of what my dumb neighbors are thinking about you. We know they’re wrong, that’s all that matters, alright? And they better get used to you hanging out at my house, ‘cause I don’t give a shit about what they think, you’ll always be welcome there, even if they call the cops on you everyday. I want you there, Eddie.’

Eddie, exhausted from all his emotions, is barely able process that much sweetness. It’s too much; those reassuring words and the tender way in which Steve is brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks to wipe away his tears. It is making him lose any last ounce of common sense; he can only give in to those tender touches and press his lips against Steve’s.

Within a second, his brain catches up to what his body has decided would be a good idea, and he freezes in terror. Surely Steve will despise him now; surely he’ll push him away, punch him, call him all kinds of terrible names, lock him back into that cell...

But none of that happens. Steve only produces a surprised sound from the back of his throat, then presses his lips firmly against Eddie’s, soft and warm and gentle, while cradling his arms around him.

It only takes a few seconds, then Steve pulls back, blushing fervently and with a somewhat shocked look on his face.

‘Um. That was... Holy shit.’ He draws in a shuddering breath. ‘They probably have cameras in here, don’t they?’

Eddie can only nod stupidly.

Steve moves his arm to grab Eddie’s hand and squeezes it lightly.

‘How about I get you outta here, and we do um...’ His eyes flash down to Eddie’s lips for a split second. ‘And we do that again somewhere we have more privacy?’

---

They take their time in the back of Eddie’s van, kissing and talking and then kissing some more. When Eddie finally drops Steve off at Family Video to let him finish what’s left of his shift, he feels like he might never be able to stop smiling anymore.

‘Hey, um...’ he starts, ‘When you tell people about us, can you please leave out the part where I had a completely pathetic breakdown, and maybe instead say that you fell in love with me because of how immensely cool and badass I looked behind bars?’

Steve lets out a loud laugh. He reaches out his hand to play with one of Eddie’s curls. ‘That’s gonna be a no,’ he says, still chuckling but with an earnest look in his soft brown eyes. ‘I like our story just the way it is. As far as I’m concerned, everybody can know how strongly you feel things and what a huge softie you are. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s exactly what I like so much about you.’

[vincentbriggs]

Hello! I'm trying to draw something for a friend. Both of our characters live in the late 1720s. They both have regular outfits, but I want to draw them wearing something fancy. My friend has described his character as having a very bad sense of fashion. I can't really picture what a bad outfit back then would look like. Do you?

Hello! Well I haven't got all that much of a feel for what might have been considered a bad outfit back then, but there is one image that immediately comes to mind of someone who's very definitely badly dressed, and it's this guy. From the 4th panel of Hogarth's Marriage A la Mode (1743-45).

His individual garments look fine to me, but they're horribly mismatched! (And a bit old fashioned for the mid 40's.) You'll note that the coat cuffs are made of a large brocade that contrasts with the main body of the coat, which was very popular in the first half of the century, but that style was meant to be worn with a matching waistcoat in the same brocade. Instead he's got a completely plain waistcoat that doesn't match at all.

And the breeches should match the main coat fabric, but his don't! The black and brown and beige clash awfully. He's also got a lot more rings and a much bigger & sparklier earring than I've seen on any other guy from the era, which I speculate might have been tack and/or un-masculine, but I have no sources so don't quote me on that. I just know that when 18th century guys are wearing rings in a portrait it's usually just one, and I've only ever seen simple little hoop earrings in a very few portraits. But again, emphasis on the "speculate" part of that sentence.

(And I've just noticed that the guy next to him has curling papers in his hair, which I think is probably also meant to make him look silly and not properly dressed. No idea what the opinion would have been about the folding fan dangling from the wrist of the next guy over, but it is intriguing. The very large beauty spot on his lip is probably meant to look bad though.)

That painting is a bit later than what you're asking about, but the style of matching cuffs & waistcoat was popular in the 20's too, so here are some examples of what it's supposed to look like. A lot of them are very elaborate brocades paired with a solid dark coloured velvet, but sometimes it's a contrasting plain fabric with a ton of metal embroidery.

(1725)

(1723)

And an extant c. 1730's example from the NMS collection.

You might also look at 1710's images, because being a decade behind the current fashions would certainly make you badly dressed for the era.

(c. 1715-20)

So, I guess just put them in clashing parts of 2 or 3 different matched suits? (I am assuming you're asking about suits, since this ask was sent to me and I do not know very many things about dresses. Mostly only what I absorb from other costumers who post about it, and barely anyone does early 18th century.)

Please note that this does not apply to the 1780's-90's, fashion plates from those decades are incredibly full of clashing and mismatched suits. (Though it would probably still be bad to wear those ones on a very formal occasion.)

[follows-the-bees]

I've seen several people compare these two scenes of Ed hiding (his heart) the silk and wedding topper when Stede and Izzy walk in.

I want to deep dive into these similar moments and all that it reveals about Ed's differing relationship with Stede and Izzy here.

First, Stede walks into the room to check on Ed because he noticed Ed was upset. (This starts off positive.) Ed immediately hides the silk in his jacket over his heart as Stede walks right into Ed's space. While Ed does quickly hide the silk, he still turns to face Stede almost the whole time.

In the first moonlight scene, Stede sees and comments on the silk. He also asks permission to touch it, slowly reaching forward while looking at Ed and gently taking it from him: leaving room for Ed to make a decision. Ed could hide it again, or tell Stede no, but he lets Stede take it, and it slowly slips through his fingers into the trusting hands of Stede.

His heart, his love is returned to that same hiding spot but this time on the outside for all to see — no longer hidden — with tender care, kind words, and a soft smile.

These scenes are an extension of the "fancy a fine fabric" from their first meeting. We see how much has developed over time. How all of this is Ed opening up, becoming vulnerable, Stede enters his space both times are positive and Ed silently allows him.

All of these moments are an accumulation of their growing trust and love for each other. Stede and Ed are comfortable in each other's space.

Ed's opening himself up to it for the first time, being vulnerable and showing his heart.

Now let's look at the scene in 2x1 with the cake toppers.

Ed is hidden away in the captain's quarters, his back turned toward the door when Izzy appears behind him, one of the many instances where he just shows up quietly like a cat. Unlike with Stede, Ed doesn't turn around or toward him right away. He hides the Stede-similar wedding topper in the same hiding spot, over his heart, before inquiring if the crew got cake. And only looking at Izzy in short spurts. He then turns his back again and hides his feelings in another way: rhino horn and then kicking Izzy out of his space.

Later that day, Ed hides his heart, his feelings for Stede, by dropping the wedding topper off the ship and into the ocean, watching it sink into the water. Reminiscent of how he feels: just treading water. Izzy, in fact — no one else, is privy to seeing this.

The equivalent of the moonlight scene — Ed's feelings being spoken about more openly (yet, not by Ed) and on display — happens later in this episode. Once again, Izzy is talking to Ed in the captain's quarters, but he accidentally says "talk it through" causing the unspoken topic to rear its head.

After all the build up of this episode, Ed is at a breaking point and he carries this conversation onto the deck, into public. And by the end, after waving around a gun and acting manic in order to get Izzy to crack, gun ready for just the glimpse of a moment Izzy finally says Stede's name, Ed shoots Izzy in the leg.

This is a very different outcome than the first time. Both items are about Stede, but one is allowed to be nurtured by Stede, Ed allows his vulnerability to be seen by the object of his feelings.

In the second one, his space is being invaded again but it is in a negative way. And Ed acts accordingly to this negativity, to his feelings being prodded and probed. This wonderful analysis goes into more detail about the manic Ed, shooting Izzy scene, and Ed's headspace. Unlike proudly wearing his heart (silk) over his heart, he shoots Izzy when his vulnerability is public. As that same analysis describes, he doesn't shoot Izzy for saying Stede's name, but invading his space and making him confront his emotions.

All traces of his heart: both the silk and the wedding topper, are thrown off the ship, never to be seen again. But when Ed and Stede reunite, those are no longer needed. They have each other. And both are still present, alluded to in other ways: Stede's red shirt, Ed looking at Stede during LuPete's wedding, and especially during the lighting (red, purple, and yellow) in Calypso's Birthday.

Ed keeps all of his feelings hidden. Yes, the whole crew is aware of Stede and Ed's love for each other, but Ed never actually tells anyone his feelings for Stede. (Stede on the other hand waxes poetic about Ed to anyone who will listen.) Even when Lucius talks to him about Stede, Ed tells him that it is a fictional character who is having a hard time. When Anne and Mary tease them about if they had sex yet, he becomes defensive and says it's private.

All of his moments with Stede are in private, in the captain's quarters, auxiliary wardrobe, on deck, or on the beach. The first time we see them do anything in public is at the very end of S2 when everything comes to a head and they are reunited.

These two scenes show Ed hiding his love and then his love being put on display (one by the person he is in love with and the other by someone he loves but not romantically). The contrasting positive versus negative show how very different the outcomes are when one grows naturally and the other is forced. (As well the forming of a relationship versus the ending of one.) And we see how Ed, who always thought his feelings should/need to be kept secret, handles his secret feeling when made public. All until the growth at the end of season two, where they are in full sunlight, in public, on the beach - on land, grounded (he's not an impossible bird) but still adjacent to the sea (mermen.)

[h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3]

𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐚𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧

8teen+ ⚠️

[TW: threesome, black reader! but any1 can read, sub reader, bimbo reader!, voyeurism, use of (y/n) a couple times, daddy kink, Tim gets off on eating 😻, oral (f receiving) , no protection 🙅🏾‍♀️, dirty talk ig] if I left out any let me know

[Summary: your the campus bimbo who's caught the eye of Tim and Darryl]

'there she goes man' Tim says, pushing Darryl's arm to get his attention. 'fuuck,' Darryl groans, seeing (y/n) about to make her way past them.

both taking a deep inhale as she walked by them 'you think she's thinking of us as the wind grazes her ass in that short ass skirt' Tim questioned. catching Darryl of guard making him take his eyes off of the girl who did infact have on a "mini skirt," but it honestly was just a band of fabric rapped around her ass.

'you can't say shit like that in public' he replies looking around like he didn't approve of what Tim said checking to see who heard before smirking and dapping him up 'she most definitely do tho' he exclaimed as they started laughing.

and it was true for the most part. you had no clue who they were by name, but you'd seen them all the time even had class with em. you always saw them smiling and laughing when they thought you weren't paying attention, commenting about what you were wearing, even going as far to talk about your ass. You had no problem being their entertainment when they came around. They were fine as fuck and it was much better than the creepy janitors.

making your way to your Anthropology class that you honestly just took for an easy A, and if you didnt at least make that you wouldn't be bored for a good hour and 30. win, win , actually make that win, win, win, because you just so happen to share this class with Darryl.

it honestly was a complete accident but why not take what they universe gives. that's exactly what you do as you sit in the front of class, not taking notes but playing with the fur ball on your pen imagining just how many ways you could be slutted out right now.

your chair was moved back from the desk you sit at so you can comfortably cross your legs, no work on your desk, just your pink juicy bag.

you can feel his eyes on you as you adjust in the uncomfortable chair provided by the school. feeling him as he takes in the new skin revealed by your readjusting. as he admires how the low lighting makes your look almost edible. how your skin glowed, he could imagine how it felt from here.

☆

just as the teacher finishes answering a students questions the bell rings, prompting her to put away her pen and ready to leave. Darryl speeds up putting away his notes to catch up to her just as she exits the class.

'hey' he calls out getting your attention, making you turn around to meet him. 'I see you don't really take notes in Anthropology, so if you wanted to have mine, I'd be happy to give them to you,' he says notebook in hand. 'I couldn't possibly do that, you spent all class taking those notes, and there's bound to be a paper due.' you kindly decline, knowing you'd have no use for the notes even of a paper was due.

' oh well, yea that's no problem, who cares about a paper' Darryl replies making a face. ' this is Anthropology, I just write exactly what he says in my papers. what is it gonna be? wrong?'he jokes, making you laugh. 'here' he says handing you the notebook.

'thank you' whispered trying to hold back a big ass smile but failing miserably. ' im (y/n)' you say reaching your free hand out to shake his.' Darryl' as he shakes your hand 'nice to meet you' he says with a fine ass smile on his face, not letting your hand go.

'and this is' he says turning you and pulling your back into his front. ' Tim LaFlour ' he introduces in a fancy voice. letting out a chuckle at him you introduce yourself to Tim.' how do you guys know eachother?'you question 'were roomstes' Tim asnwers. 'cute' you reply with a laugh, you guys talk for a little before they invite you to have lunch with them.

it's a cute dinner not to far off of campus 'you guys live close to here?' you ask as you grab a fry. 'yea why, wanna spend the night' Tim Jokes, well he might be joking. ' why' you say tilting your head 'ya think I'm that easy tim' you pout. 'aww what never' he says sarcasticly, although it might be offensive he's not wrong. let them invite you over and your coming, in a heartbeat.

Darryl throws a fry a Tim 'ow'. 'don't listen to him, he's just mad he's that easy' he says making you all laugh. 'what not baby Tim Tim' you fake surprise holding your hand over your heart. 'no see its different, ive denied myself of all pleasures so now I can freely indulge in them.' he explained like it was common knowledge. 'okay, sure' as you laugh with Darryl.

☆

welp they did end up inviting her over, honestly at first she wasn't going to do anything, she was gonna make them wait for it, but making them wait for it means she'd too also have to wait for it .. and as Tim said we've been denied long enough might as well indulge, that's basically what he said so it counts.

so that's how she found herself being carried into their shared apartment by Tim as they made out making their way to the couch. waisting no time Tim began to undress the both of them.

watching as they finally rid themselves of their clothes Darryl sat in the chair across from the couch. watching as Tim dropped his hand to her pussy rubbing over her entrance collecting her juices on his fingers and her moans in his mouth as he hungrily kissed her.

feeling his pants tighten as Tim broke the kiss with (y/n) finally allowing her moans to be put on full display as he started to devour her from the inside out. lapping up the juices that collected on her pussy and letting his index and middle finger slip into her entrance forcing out a breathy 'fuck' from her lips.

bringing one hand to cover your mouth as Tim pushed your thighs up to your shoulder. removing his mouth from you 'hold them' before going back to your pussy. listening and holding your thighs to your shoulders with your free hand. not noticing Darryl rising from his chair and making his way over to you. grasping your hand in his taking it from your mouth and placing it over his buldge in his jeans 'baby why you wanna be quiet when you making me feel like this' he says before squating to meet your face.

bringing your hand in his up to his lips leaving a soft kiss. 'look at that baby'using his other hand to support your head so you could look as Tim eats your pussy like a five star meal, his fingers disappearing and reappearing like magic, and that's exactly what it felt like.'don't stop daddy please' you moan as Darryl lets your head fall back.

still holding your legs up like the good girl you were, you knew your orgasm wasn't far off when Tim removed his fingers gripping your ass and burying his face is your pussy. Darryl leaves kisses along your thigh as he watches his roommate make your cum on their shared couch.

'fuck I'm gonna cum' you say releasing your thighs thinking that'd subtle the pleasure only for Tim to grip under your knees removing his mouth from you raising up to his knees and thrusting his cock into you.

'fuck' you scream instantly cumming around him, tightening in ways that make Tim moan loudly as he starts to fuck into you. 'God I'm gonna cum' he whimpers speeding up his thrust before he stills fully in you letting his cum spirt into you..

your mind goes blank and it's possible you've just witnessed judgment day in 4k.

it's not long before your feel Tim slide out of you. Hearing snapping you open your eyes to see Darryl infront of you 'thought we lost you for a sec, you think you can go again baby?' he questions kindly, moving your hair off of your sweat covered forhead as you nod 'yes' you say 'please'.

he chuckles removing his shirt not to shortly followed by his jeans. left in his boxers you see just how turned on he was. cock hard and leaking. you sit up grabbing the waist band and reaching your hand into his boxers to pull him out, admiring everything about him.

leaning forward to lick his cock he stops you before you can get a taste. ' not what I want baby' he states. moving you like you were light as a feather over the shoulder of the couch collecting the mixed fluids on your pussy with his tip before pushing Into your entrance.

letting out a moan as you gripped the couch. 'fuck daddy' pushing your ass back onto him. groaning as you take him the rest of the way in he throws his head back 'fuck baby' he groans, letting his eyes look over to Tim who now occupies his previous seat, letting his hand lazyly stroke his cock. 'fuck' Darryl moans taking his attention back to you placing his hand at the center of your arch. letting his other hand find home in the hair on the back of your head.

he started off slow just grinding into you, moving to taking the base only out and grinding back into you, slowly taking more and more out each time. when he finally gets to the tip he moves his hand from your back, snaking it over you're stomach letting the other fall from your hair to your throat as he starts to rapidly thrust into you giving you no time to prepare.

'oh my god- oh - fuck fuck fuck- god' is all you can let out along with pathetic moans as he fucks into you the way you needed to be fucked.

feeling his pace stutter and his cock pulse as he leans down onto your shoulder not letting up for a moment 'come on baby I can feel you, you wanna cum' he says as you tighten in attempt to hold off your orgasim. ' cum on daddys dick, please baby, god, wanna feel you cum baby' as he speeded up fucking you into your orgasm. following right after. releasing a deep groan while fucking his cum deeper into you before pulling out.

looking over to Tim he sees that his hand and stomach were covered in cum. letting out a breathy laugh looking back to you.

"five minute break before round two?"

★★★

a/n:

leaves thoughts I don't know who I like it .